It's Raining Men
by MagicSwede1965
Summary: Fed up with being single, Myeko asks Leslie for a fantasy...and winds up with a surprise or two. Follows 'Beware Greeks Bearing Fantasies'.
1. Chapter 1

_Here's a little teaser to keep you guessing over the weekend. My computer problems continue, but it does allow for the odd cliffhanger here and there! (grin) Enjoy! _

* * *

§ § § -- July 19, 2000 

The months without Christian had slid by at a pace whose speed surprised Leslie somewhat. They communicated via e-mail every day, even if one or the other could find time only for a hasty few words and the standard "I love you" that neither ever neglected to add. But in early July, Arnulf had decided to yank Christian away from his business again and send him off to pitch Lilla Jordsö products, business opportunities and tourism in Australia and New Zealand—too quickly for Leslie to arrange vacation time and meet him there. She'd been sorry about that, as a trip Down Under was nearly as appealing as spending time with Christian.

So she was in just the right mood to commiserate on a mid-July Wednesday when Myeko came for a visit. Roarke was on an errand that would keep him out of the house till past suppertime, and Leslie was mostly just manning the desk and collecting phone messages. To pass the time, she was watching old TV shows on a small portable black-and-white set she had bought some time before. When Myeko walked in, Leslie was more than willing to be distracted from the silence and a "King's Castle" rerun that she'd already half memorized from repeated airings. Myeko laughed when she recognized the program. "Still stuck on your favorite show?" she teased.

"It passes the time," Leslie said, stifling a yawn in the tropical summer heat. "So, sit down, take a load off. What brings you over here? How're the kids?"

"They're having a fabulous summer vacation," said Myeko. "Noelle's over at Grady and Maureen's playing with Brianna, and Alexander's with some school friends. I'm feeling like an afterthought."

Leslie reached over and shut off the TV, regarding her friend thoughtfully. "Seems to me I remember you feeling that way the time you talked Father into letting you have that night with Eros," she said.

Myeko sighed wistfully. "If only he hadn't been some old god," she mumbled. "I'll never forget that night, Leslie. Trouble is, I'll never get to have another one, maybe not with anyone, never mind Eros. I mean, no guy's gonna look twice at a frazzled single mom who's feeling left out."

"Is Toki's wife pregnant again?" Leslie asked.

Myeko rolled her eyes. "She's a freaking baby machine. They've got a boy and I guess they're trying for a girl now. Toki always did want a big family, and it looks like he's getting it. I wish, just once, that I could get something I want."

"You and me both," said Leslie feelingly. "Christian's mostly out of reach…his blasted meddling busybody of a brother dispatched him off to Australia and New Zealand with barely any warning. Christian had just enough time to send me one e-mail message telling me what was happening, and since then I haven't heard from him. He can't get to a computer, and I'm beginning to wish I'd had the presence of mind to tell him he could call me."

"I'd hope he has enough sense to think of it himself," Myeko remarked. "Hey, I thought you told us back in March or April that Marina finally told off the king. Sounds to me like it went in one ear and out the other."

Leslie nodded, eyes downcast, tracing listless circles on the date-book cover with the eraser of a pencil. "If I ever meet Arnulf…"

"Look out," Myeko warned, snickering. "Don't get too violent, or you'll be stuck in jail and never get to marry Christian." Leslie rolled her eyes and they both laughed, before Myeko sank back into her blue funk. "But at least you've got someone to obsess over. I always feel like I can't talk to the other girls anymore, you know? They're all married and having a great old time with their men, and I always get that fifth-wheel feeling. Like I said, just once, I wish I could get something I want…" Her voice trailed off, her expression changed, and she stared at Leslie with huge eyes. "Hey, wait a minute—I _can!_ I live on Fantasy Island, for crying out loud! Leslie, will you do me a huge favor? Can you and Mr. Roarke grant me a fantasy?"

Leslie stared at her. "What kind of fantasy?"

"One where I meet lots of men. Come on, Leslie, don't give me that weird look. You're feeling just as deprived as I am because Christian can't be here—but like I said, at least you've got somebody. I don't, and I'm sick beyond endurance of being all alone! Please—I want a fantasy where I can meet hundreds of guys."

"Hundreds!?" echoed Leslie in disbelief.

Myeko made a noncommittal noise and shrugged. "Well, I'll settle for dozens," she wise-cracked and smirked when Leslie grinned and simultaneously rolled her eyes again. "How soon can you squeeze me in?"

"Well," said Leslie, still a little doubtful, "if you're really determined to go through with this, then okay." She opened Roarke's date book to the current month, her eyes widening. "There's a vacancy here for next weekend, the twenty-ninth and thirtieth. Is that soon enough for you?" she asked playfully.

"That's perfect," exclaimed Myeko excitedly. "Toki has the kids that weekend." She froze with sudden inspiration. "Oh my God! Leslie, this is _great!_ Listen—I'll take the kids to Honolulu on the twenty-eighth, drop them off at Toki's and then hang out and do some shopping or something. Then I'll come back on the charter on Saturday morning with your other guests—just like a real fantasizer! I've always wondered what it'd be like to get off the plane and get leis and drinks and have Mr. Roarke treat me like an honored guest. This is _great!_ Hey, will two hundred dollars be enough?" At Leslie's dazed nod: "Fantastic! You're the best, Leslie, you don't know what this means to me! I am _so_ excited…I can't wait! I'll get to the bank and get you the money…don't worry, you'll have it in plenty of time. I can't believe what a great idea this is! Something for me to look forward to! Maybe _this_ time I'll finally meet a decent guy who really likes me and doesn't mind my having kids and wants a relationship with me! Thanks so much, Leslie, you're such a wonderful friend!" Deliriously she skipped out the door, leaving Leslie staring after her in slack-jawed astonishment.

"Terrific," she mumbled to herself, eyeing the blank spot on the last weekend of July in the date book, then the stacks of fantasy requests she'd earlier sorted through, and then the ceiling in supplication. "I might live to regret this, but I can't disappoint her when I've just made her so darn happy. I guess Father'll just have to forgive me, because I think that'll be a lot easier than asking for permission." She printed Myeko's name on July 29, then began to skim the fantasy-request letters, setting aside the ones from men that asked to meet women. She might not get hundreds or even dozens, but ten should be enough. And if she staggered their arrival times across the following week, she might evade Roarke's notice until it was too late and Myeko was tripping down the plane dock. Leslie worked with a self-mocking grin, figuring the sole saving grace she had going for her was that it was almost too simple a fantasy to fail. The worst that could happen was that none of the guys would appeal to Myeko…wasn't it?

§ § § -- July 29, 2000

"Those two men," Roarke said to Leslie as he gestured toward the dock, "are friends—Paul Chen and Jeff Lippert. They both live in Paragould, Arkansas, where Mr. Chen is a dentist and Mr. Lippert is an attorney. They were in the Army together some fifteen years ago."

"I see," said Leslie. "Now that we have the preliminaries out of the way, who has the fantasy, and what is it?"

"Mr. Chen does, and it's one that has haunted him ever since his childhood. His grandfather immigrated from China about fifty-five years ago, shortly after the end of World War II, and Mr. Chen grew up on tales of his exploits in that war and the Sino-Japanese war that preceded it. Unfortunately, the one that made the deepest impression on him was a grisly prisoner-of-war story, in which Mr. Chen's grandfather recounted the details of torture by his Japanese captor."

"Good Lord," said Leslie, aghast. "What an awful image to give a kid. Stories like that would've given me nightmares. So what's that got to do with his fantasy?"

"Mr. Chen wants to confront the soldier who tortured his grandfather all those years ago," Roarke said quietly, his dark eyes narrowed and fixed on their guest. "Although I informed him that the soldier, like Mr. Chen's grandfather, is now deceased, he insisted on this fantasy, and told me that if he could not meet his grandfather's captor, then he wished to face the man's descendants. And that, I am sorry to say, will hit far too close to home for comfort…but he was so adamant that I finally agreed."

Leslie suppressed a shiver, then felt her stomach fill with butterflies when she recognized Myeko making her way down the dock, an overly-thrilled look on her face. Roarke squinted at her, canted his head forward in amazement, and finally turned to Leslie with an astonished look. "Isn't that your friend Myeko?" he asked.

Leslie nodded. "She has a fantasy," she said.

Roarke stood up straight and studied his daughter with a look of growing suspicion. "Does she indeed! And what, pray tell, _is_ that fantasy…and why didn't you tell me about it? Could it be that she is taking advantage of your friendship?"

"Absolutely not!" Leslie said hotly. "She paid two hundred dollars to have this fantasy granted. All she wants to do is meet eligible men. She's sick and tired of being single, and I have to say I can't blame her a bit. I've already taken care of getting a group of men here that she can meet. They've been arriving in ones and twos on the plane throughout the last eight or nine days, and they're all looking to meet women too. It has to be about the simplest fantasy in the world. Even if she doesn't find her Mr. Right, we still gave her what she asked for, and the rest is up to her. Isn't it?"

"Perhaps so," said Roarke, glancing at Myeko and shaking his head. "Since you have presented me with a _fait accompli_, Leslie, then it would appear I have no choice but to let her go ahead with the fantasy. However…_you_ will be in full charge."

The way he said this made her turn to him with a wary look in her eyes. "Why do I get the feeling that you don't regard this as a good thing?"

"Because you are correct: I don't," Roarke said. "You seem convinced that this fantasy will be very easy, and it does seem so on the surface. In light of that, I hereby place you entirely and solely in charge of Myeko's fantasy—and that means that whatever may go wrong, whatever problems she may encounter, whatever difficulties may crop up in the course of the weekend, it will be your responsibility to handle them. Yours, and yours alone."

Leslie realized then exactly what he meant. "In other words, if this thing somehow goes haywire, you're not going to lift a finger to help me," she said, a little sardonically.

"Precisely," Roarke said crisply. "Excellent deductive work, Leslie." Leaving it at that, he accepted his glass and raised it to their guests before Leslie could recover enough to try to defend herself any further. "My dear guests! I am Mr. Roarke, your host. Welcome to Fantasy Island!" He was the picture of warmth and generosity as he toasted the new arrivals, but it was clear to Leslie that he was pointedly ignoring her. She sighed quietly and tried to console herself with the assurance that she had at least chosen something uncomplicated.


	2. Chapter 2

§ § § -- July 29, 2000

Waiting in the study for the first of their guests to keep their initial appointments, Leslie rechecked the list of men she planned to tell Myeko about, and to her great surprise saw that both Paul Chen and Jeff Lippert were on the list. Roarke, watching her, inquired, "Why the surprised look?"

"It seems both Mr. Chen and Mr. Lippert are single," said Leslie. "I'd planned for Myeko to meet them."

Roarke's dark eyes narrowed again, only just perceptibly. "A handy coincidence," he said, frowning with great concern. "I don't like the implications."

"What implications?" asked Leslie blankly.

"I would advise you to refrain from introducing Mr. Chen to Myeko," said Roarke flatly.

Leslie eyed him in confusion. "But Father," she protested, "I promised Myeko she could meet ten men—"

"She needs only one, ultimately, does she not?" Roarke broke in. "If nothing else, you might remember our longstanding policy of keeping fantasies entirely separate from one another. There is no reason for her to meet Mr. Chen or Mr. Lippert, and I might add that there are undoubtedly plenty of other unattached men who didn't make it onto that list of yours." He shook his head, looking bemused. "Why is it that all my assistants get it into their heads to take on a fantasy of their own? Tattoo made several attempts at this, and Julie did the same thing at least once. Lawrence made a couple of halfhearted stabs at it, and there were ten or twelve others between Lawrence's departure and your return from Finland who took it upon themselves to grant fantasies at one time or another. As a matter of fact," Roarke concluded ominously, with a pointed look at Leslie, "these capers directly resulted in the firing of no fewer than five of them."

"If that's meant to be a statement about your confidence in me, or the lack thereof, I don't much appreciate it," Leslie said, scowling in resentment.

"Very well, then, tell me exactly how many such attempts succeeded," countered Roarke.

Leslie said carefully, "Well, I wouldn't know about your assistants between that godawful Kekipi and the day I got the job…but I do remember Julie and Tattoo making their attempts. And actually, not only did Julie's one fantasy have a happy ending, you actually offered her the chance to grant the thing. All the ones Tattoo tried granting ended well too."

Roarke cleared his throat delicately. "Your little revelation about Julie's fantasy notwithstanding, those fantasies ended well only due to my intervention, if you will recall, my dear Leslie. You would have done well to have heeded the lessons of Tattoo and then Julie before you."

"You had no problem interceding to be sure theirs came off without a hitch," Leslie protested, wounded. "Why are you suddenly so averse to lending a hand in my case? Not that I necessarily expect to need it—"

"Really," said Roarke. "Then why are you so upset that I am withholding that helping hand?"

Leslie realized too late that she'd been neatly trapped by Roarke's logic, and gave him an annoyed glare before turning aside and devoting undue attention to her list of names. Roarke eyed her sidelong with only partially concealed amusement and a poorly squelched half-smile; then he was forced to compose himself when the door opened and admitted Paul Chen and Jeff Lippert.

"Paul, I'm telling you, this whole vengeance thing is just way out of control," Lippert was saying as they came into the study. Both men saw Roarke and Leslie watching them and broke off what had clearly been a lively and fairly heated discussion. "Sorry, Mr. Roarke," said Lippert.

"Oh, not at all, gentlemen. Won't you please have a seat? Is there anything we can get you?" Roarke inquired.

The two Arkansans declined and settled into the leather chairs while Roarke resumed his seat behind the desk. Leslie retreated to the computer chair, slipping her list into her pocket and sitting down to watch quietly. "Perhaps you might enumerate your reasons for wishing to confront the soldier you tell me was responsible for your grandfather's torture," Roarke said to Chen.

Chen, a Chinese man in his mid-to-late thirties with a somewhat stocky build and hair already beginning to go gray at the temples, leaned intensely forward. "It's really very simple, Mr. Roarke. My grandfather never had a chance to defend himself. For almost two years he was forced to endure whatever inhuman horrors his captor doled out to him. Granddad said he'd never forget his torturer's face as long as he lived, and I'm sure he didn't. In any case, that monster needs to pay for what he did, and I want to exact that payment on Granddad's behalf. He died seventeen years ago without ever having known a moment of peace from all the memories and nightmares that plagued him."

Roarke nodded contemplatively. "I understand your desires, Mr. Chen," he said, "but as it happens, the soldier who tortured your grandfather is also deceased, as I informed you in my initial letter. I am given to understand that he passed away more than twenty years ago. I think it frankly quite futile to carry out this dream of vengeance that one man, now dead, had toward another man who is also dead."

"That's all very well and fine," Chen said coldly, while Lippert rolled his eyes in exasperation. "But you told me he has descendants—children and grandchildren?"

"Yes," said Roarke, "his son is here on the island, and is fully aware of your existence and the purpose of your trip here. But I caution you, Mr. Chen, it is extremely unwise—not to mention unfair—of you to perpetuate the crimes of one man upon his descendants and try to administer punishment. How much satisfaction can you truly gain from unleashing your bitterness and desire for revenge on a man who is innocent of his father's misdeeds?"

"Plenty," Chen said. "I'll feel I've got something back on Granddad's behalf. I know if I were in the position of that misbegotten soldier's son, I'd be ashamed of my parentage and would feel obligated to accept any punishment on the parent's behalf."

"That's easy for you to say," Leslie couldn't resist remarking. "For you it's purely academic."

"She's right," broke in Lippert. "You'll never have to deal with being in that situation, Paul, so it's the easiest thing on earth for you to spout out pious comments like that. I don't like this whole thing, Mr. Roarke, and if I had any say in this, I'd suggest you change Paul's fantasy so that he's forced to walk a few miles in the other guy's shoes."

"Well, you don't," Chen shot back.

Roarke held up his hands. "Forgive me, gentlemen, but while I appreciate Mr. Lippert's point of view, I have in fact agreed to grant Mr. Chen's fantasy for reasons of my own." He turned to Chen. "You will meet the son of your grandfather's nemesis, but I will choose the time and the place for the meeting. And there will be no physical confrontation: you will be limited to verbal discussion only. Also, you will listen to the other side's point of view, Mr. Chen, however distasteful you find the prospect. If you do not agree to these conditions, particularly the final one, I shall deny you your fantasy, refund your money and put you on the first charter plane off my island. Do I make myself clear to you?"

Chen looked more than a little broadsided, and there was a spark of outrage in his eyes that shortly transformed his entire face. Lippert anticipated him with, "Paul, if you really want this insane fantasy of yours, then you better agree to Mr. Roarke's terms. You can't have all the advantages, no matter how entitled you think you are to them. Where's your sense of fair play?"

"Buried with Granddad," Chen said shortly, but it was plain that Roarke's and Lippert's combined assault had taken some of the wind out of his sails. "There's no getting around you, is there, Roarke?"

"No, there isn't," Roarke told him calmly. "I have the power to dictate terms, because I own this island and I am the final authority here. What is your decision?"

Chen heaved a great sigh and growled low in his throat with frustration. "All right, Roarke, I'll play it your way. I don't like it, but I'll do it."

"You need not like it," said Roarke almost pleasantly, "you need only abide by it. I will notify you when the meeting is to take place, in ample time for you to prepare yourself for it. Will that be satisfactory?"

Chen shrugged in resignation. "Guess it has to be. All right, then, I'll wait for the summons." He arose and left without another word.

A silence fell for a moment; then Jeff Lippert cleared his throat. "Well, since Paul can't be persuaded to give up his unhappy mission, I guess I'll concentrate on my own fantasy. And I understand you're the one who's helping me out on that, Leslie?"

Leslie nodded and smiled. "Right, Mr. Lippert. Yours is actually a very easy fantasy to grant—there're always eligible women here, so you stand an excellent chance of finding just the right one for you." At this point, before she could continue or before a somewhat overwhelmed Roarke could comment, Myeko came into the house and down the stairs into the study.

"I'm ready, Leslie!" she sang out.

Leslie grinned. "Hi, Myeko. Mr. Jeff Lippert, meet Ms. Myeko Sensei, whose fantasy matches yours."

Jeff and Myeko shook hands, each taking a quick impression of the other and liking the subject. "Nice to meet you," Lippert said. "Could I talk you into some pool time? I just got here and it would be great to just relax and have a talk, get to know you a little."

"Sure," said Myeko. "Can I meet you there in about 45 minutes? I've got my appointment with Leslie, and then I'll go change into my bathing suit."

"Looking forward to it," said Lippert and smiled. "Hey, a great start already. Thank you, Leslie, Mr. Roarke." His hosts nodded, and he left.

Roarke arose at that point and remarked, "Quite the multi-pronged project you've taken on, Leslie, is it not? If you ladies will both kindly excuse me…" He departed briskly.

Myeko watched him go, then peered at Leslie. "Uh-oh. Did you tee off Mr. Roarke? I mean, he looked pretty annoyed."

"Frankly, I don't know why he should be, when he told me in so many words that this fantasy was mine and mine alone to handle," Leslie said, disgruntled. "Look, you paid good money for this, Myeko, and I intend to deliver. So don't worry about what Father thinks of all this, let's just get you started. You're going to have the chance to meet ten different guys over the course of the weekend—you've already met one of them. Most of the others should be at the pool, so why don't you make a quick trip home and get your suit on, and then meet me back here. Then I'll take you to the pool and show you the guys you'll be meeting."

Myeko beamed. "As my kids would say, awesome! I'll be back in no time." She rushed out, and Leslie smiled faintly to herself. Roarke's reaction to all this had made her a little nervous; but her primary focus was going to be her friend, and she was determined to make a success of this fantasy. She used her unexpected free minutes to check e-mail, and to her amazement found a message from Christian. Eagerly she opened it.

_Surprise, my Leslie Rose!_

_I am in a very swanky hotel here in Sydney, New South Wales, Australia; and there is a computer here, hooked up to the Internet, for guests to use! I am here until Tuesday, when I will be on my way to Auckland and a whole new round of sales pitches and demonstrations for the New Zealanders. To tell you the truth, I hate this sort of thing…Arnulf seems to think I'm a salesman. Too bad murdering the king is treason (ha, ha). I'm on a somewhat strict budget for this trip because Arnulf is footing the bill, but when I heard about this hotel and its computer, I spent my own money to stay here and contact you. It's the weekend, you must be busy, but I'll look forward to your reply when you get a chance._

_I love you!_

_Christian_

Grinning crazily, Leslie took the chance and hit the reply button to answer him then and there.

_Christian, my love,_

_You're right, I'm busy, but for reasons other than you'd expect. I just happened to have some free minutes alone here, and what a wonderful surprise to see your message! (Of course, you can always call me too, you know…Father wouldn't mind at all.)_

_Anyway…I got kind of ambitious this weekend. I'm granting my friend Myeko a fantasy. She's the last of my friends who's still single, and she's fed up; so she asked me to help. We're always seeing romances start up on this island, so it's practically a piece of cake. Father takes a different view and seems convinced I'm going to blow it. Well, we'll see, I guess. But I really want this to work for Myeko's sake. She's a super friend and a sweet person, and the guy who picks up on that will get a terrific reward for his insight. So I'm introducing her to a group of different single guys, and after that, who knows?_

_Has your sales campaign been successful? I hope so…would hate to think old Arnulf was spending his money in vain. :) At least you get to travel to some interesting places. Wish I'd had enough lead time to arrange to meet you somewhere. Well, call me, please, my love, if your budget will permit it. I love you!_

_Love always,_

_Leslie_

She sent the message and shut down the computer, then got up and consulted her list again. In rapid succession she made half a dozen phone calls; and when Myeko returned about ten minutes later, she was ready to launch her friend's fantasy.


	3. Chapter 3

§ § § -- July 29, 2000

"So," Myeko said on her way to the pool with Leslie, "I think what's going to happen here is I'll be meeting Jeff at the pool—after you point out all these other guys to me. You said I'll be meeting ten of them?" Leslie nodded, and she shrugged, grinning. "Okay, I won't have fits at you," she said teasingly. "I asked for dozens, but I realize I have only today and tomorrow, and you have to work within those time constraints. So I forgive you."

"Big of you," Leslie teased back, and they both laughed. "Okay, here we go. Looks like Jeff Lippert isn't here yet, so…let's see. Now over at the far end of the pool near the cabanas, with the crowd around him, is Mike Doyle, a soccer player from England. There's Jason Wellman, a construction worker from Montana, next to the statue. The real looker there with the muscles and the gang of women around him is Adam Baines—and you'll never believe this, but he's a Chippendales dancer!" She grinned at the astonished look and the bright light in Myeko's eyes. "Now, the two guys at this table over here are Nicholas Okada, a veterinarian from Arizona originally, and Dan Cole, an engineer from Rhode Island. The skinny fellow sitting on the edge of the pool over here at the shallow end is Phillip Holliday, an accountant from Pacific Palisades, California. Tony DuLongpré is a store manager from Cincinnati, Ohio—the hot-looking African-American guy over there toting a couple of drinks. And finally, this guy at the umbrella-shaded table reading the book is Rick Larsen, a career military man. He's a staff sergeant in the US Air Force."

"That's nine," said Myeko, who Leslie only now realized had been counting off on her fingers. "Where's the tenth one?"

"He's not here right now," Leslie said. "Actually, he had some business with Father. You'll probably meet him later. Don't worry about that—you've got all these other guys to sample. Now…get out there and start making the rounds! I'll be here if you need me for anything."

Myeko nodded, then surveyed the men Leslie had shown her and stuck her hands in her pockets, thinking. "Well, I don't know about meeting any Asian guys right now," she mumbled. "Too many memories of Toki, you know. But I think—" She stopped and stared in surprise at something, and Leslie followed her gaze just in time to see a very pretty African-American woman step up to Tony DuLongpré and start a conversation with him. "Wow, there went one of my options already!" Myeko exclaimed.

"You're narrowing yourself down pretty fast," Leslie observed, "since you eliminated Nicholas Okada and Paul Chen—he's the guy who isn't here. Seven left. Who do you want to meet first?"

Myeko scanned the poolside throngs, but her eyes kept straying back to the same point. Leslie wasn't particularly surprised when her friend said, "Adam…the Chippendales guy. Heck, I've got as much of a chance with him as anybody, right?"

"Of course," agreed Leslie. "Okay, come with me."

She led her friend over to the table where the handsome, fit young man looked to be holding court amongst a sea of female admirers. Just as they stepped within sight of Adam, one of the women said, "I sure hope you'll be performing here." That was met with a chorus of loud, enthusiastic agreement. Adam's face took on a discomfited look, and he focused on Leslie with relief.

"Oh, hi, Leslie," he said with emphasis, calling attention to her arrival. "Good to see you."

"Hi, Adam," Leslie replied. "I have someone for you to—"

"Wait a minute, Leslie—_is_ he gonna perform?" the same woman broke in hopefully.

Leslie smiled, very amused but managing to keep her expression professional. "Sorry, ladies, there won't be any Chippendales shows here. Adam's here strictly on vacation." At the collective moan of disappointment that arose, she added, "Hey, come on—everybody deserves time off." She grinned to temper the statement and was rewarded with murmurs of reluctant agreement.

Adam looked profoundly grateful when the crowd began to disperse. "Thanks loads, Leslie. Did you need something?"

"I came to introduce you to someone. This is Myeko Sensei. Myeko, Adam Baines."

Adam and Myeko shook hands, Adam rising to meet her, and Myeko took one of the vacated chairs. Leslie left them alone and began to make a slow circuit around the pool, making sure everything was going smoothly. Myeko cast a last glance after her, then turned to Adam and asked a little hesitantly, "What's it like, having the job you do?"

Adam shrugged. "It's kinda dog-eat-dog. You really have to stay in shape, and you've gotta be above-average-looking, and you sort of have to be an ex…" He hesitated. "Well, maybe not actually an exhibitionist. But you can't be shy about your body, y'know? It's great money, and I've been socking it away for the future when I get too old and flabby to do this anymore." That made Myeko grin, but Adam looked completely serious. "I'm not kidding. When I have to enter the regular business world, I want to be sure I can still live in style, even if my looks go." A worried expression flitted across his face. "So I gotta keep those up as long as I can."

"Oh," said Myeko, a little surprised. "I guess I can understand that. I bet you get a lot of dates in this business, though, don't you?"

"Not really," said Adam, surprising her even more. "It's almost like you're too good to be true, I guess. They just admire you from afar and then head home to their real-life boyfriends or husbands. So I thought I'd come here and maybe find a real lady." He focused on her expectantly. "Tell me about you."

"Well, I'm 35, divorced, two kids," she said and smiled a little self-consciously. "I was born and raised here, and I've never really lived anywhere else, except when I was in college."

"Oh, you live here!" said Adam, looking impressed. "Do you see a lot of weird things here?"

Myeko admitted laughingly, "Not really. Leslie and I go back a lot of years, but I'm not an insider on the business or anything like that. I guess the only time I ever really saw much of the 'fantasy' part of this island was when I met Eros one time. What a night that was. He really lived up to all those old legends…"

"Eros?" said Adam, staring at her.

Myeko felt herself go hot with embarrassment. "Well, yeah. I didn't expect it either, but I really did meet him."

"The old god," Adam said, looking stunned. "If he does really exist…aw, man. He's supposed to be the best-looking being ever, mortal or not. No woman can possibly resist him. How could I compete with that? I hope he's not planning a visit to this island while I'm here!" Anxiously Adam began to examine his own physique, and even pulled out a mirror to minutely check his face while Myeko watched, open-mouthed.

"Hey," she protested faintly, "it was a one-off…y'know?"

"No way could I measure up," said Adam and shook his head, his eyes troubled. "Come to think of it, maybe I should talk to Leslie about scheduling a performance here after all…" He got up and melted into the crowd. Myeko stared after him, then fell back in her chair and blew out her breath.

"Strike one," she mumbled. "I wonder if Jeff Lippert's here yet?" After some thought, she got up and searched the throngs for him; spotting him at the bar finally, she left her table to a group of vacationers and sidled up to him. "Still up for a chat?"

Lippert looked around and brightened. "Myeko, good, you're here! Geez, this place is a zoo—the second you get out of a chair, you lose it. You still willing to take a swim?"

"Sure," Myeko agreed. They eased into the pool, getting used to the water and exchanging the usual vital statistics. Then Myeko said, "Leslie told me you came here with a friend."

"Yeah, Paul and I go back to second grade," Jeff said, grinning. "Back then I was bigger than he was—now he's the bruiser and I'm the guy who keeps him out of jail."

Myeko laughed. "You're his attorney?"

"I am, actually. Paul has kind of a temper on him. Don't get me wrong, he's a great guy, and if he finds a good woman she'll be lucky as hell. But he has a couple issues and some sore spots, and sometimes I have to step in and remind him to keep cool. I've already had to bail him out of a couple little scrapes—nothing illegal, mind you, just a friendly reminder that he's getting in over his head and needs to back up. But seriously, he's cool. He sends clients my way pretty regularly. I need to go over notes for a couple cases that're headed to trial pretty soon. It's an interesting case, this big one I'm defending. Spousal abuse—wife beating the husband, rather than the other way around. This could be a groundbreaker. Don't think Paragould's seen anything like this before. It could make me partner, and I've been working on that for years. If I do, I aim for the big time next. I could set my sights on running for A.G. Now if the jury doesn't get hung…assuming we can find a dozen impartials—gotta tell you, this case is notorious statewide. Anyway, if we do…" And he carried on enthusiastically for quite a while, spouting legal jargo that made Myeko wonder if he was fluent in Latin and began to have a soporific effect on her. When she felt herself start to yawn, she sucked in a breath and ducked underwater for a second to wake herself up.

When she came back up, Lippert looked apologetic. "Hey, I'm sorry. Really hate to cut and run, but I can't let this case just sit idle. Listen, it was nice talking to you."

"Happy defending," said Myeko, watching him wade to the nearest ladder and climb out of the pool. She rolled her eyes to herself with mingled amusement and chagrin. Somehow she'd managed to meet a guy who was twice as talkative as she herself was! Laughing to herself, she got out of the pool and waylaid Leslie some distance from the cabanas, where the soccer player was still playing to a bunch of his fans.

"Hi," said Leslie, eyeing her. "I guess you got in your swim with Jeff Lippert."

"Sort of," Myeko said, "if you can call standing in the water swimming. He must really love being a lawyer, because he talked about it nonstop for fifteen minutes. And I think Adam the Chippendale has an inferiority complex. I mean, I mentioned meeting Eros that time, and he got all flustered and checked his pecs and whipped out a mirror. Probably looking for wrinkles." She rolled her eyes again. "Six to go…" Then she tipped her head to one side for a moment as if listening, before making a face and amending, "Come to think of it, make that five."

"Why?" asked Leslie, greatly amused.

Jabbing a thumb behind her, Myeko said, "I can barely keep my train of thought on track because Mike the Motormouth back there's been carrying on about his wonderful soccer feats the whole time I've been standing here talking to you. Even if he didn't have his fans to fawn all over him, he wouldn't need me—I think he'd be thrilled with his own voice for company."

Leslie laughed. "Okay, then, in that case, let's move on. Jason's over there by the diving board. Let's go see if he's interested in meeting you before he does a cannonball or something into the pool."

"Do grown men still do those?" groaned Myeko. "Alexander loves them. He regularly displaces all the water in my parents' swimming pool." Chatting companionably, the two women approached Jason Wellman, the construction worker from Montana.


	4. Chapter 4

§ § § -- July 29, 2000

Leslie, in the study at the main house, had just finished setting up Jeff Lippert with a vacationing female attorney from Michigan and found a quiet, homespun Iowa girl for Adam Baines when Roarke came in from whatever he had been doing. She glanced up for a second, then returned her attention to the notes she was keeping of how Myeko's fantasy (and for that matter, those of all the men she had brought here) was progressing. Roarke came in and stopped long enough to watch her jotting down her thoughts before asking, "Are you staying for lunch?"

"No, I'm meeting Myeko in town," Leslie said briskly, gathering her things together and popping out of the chair. "Let Mariki know so she doesn't go all nuts over my not being there, thanks." She strode around him and out the door before he could respond. _Maybe,_ she thought, _it'll give him a chance to calm down if I stay out of his way until I absolutely can't avoid it any longer._ Not only that, but Leslie had had to handle a couple of unexpected problems just after introducing Myeko to Jason Wellman, and had quickly arranged to meet her and three of their other friends for lunch at their favorite café in Amberville before rushing off. She was looking forward to the progress report.

She was the last to arrive; Myeko, Camille, Maureen and Lauren were already waiting at their usual table, and Myeko had the expression of someone bursting with secrets while the others just looked impatient. Lauren spotted Leslie first. "It's about time you got here," she said as Leslie slipped into the last empty spot. "Myeko wouldn't talk till you showed up, and we've been dying to find out how her fantasy's been going."

"Yeah, so come on, Sensei, spill the beans," Camille ordered good-naturedly.

Myeko grinned a little ruefully and shook her head. "For starters, you can cross three more off the list, Leslie," she said. "Dan Cole, that guy from Rhode Island, still has a torch for his ex-wife. He's nuts about her, and if I were you, I'd get hold of her and get her out here so they can maybe patch things up. And then that sergeant in the Air Force, Rick? He's about to be deployed overseas for an extended period. Two years, I think he said. The last thing I need is to try to maintain another long-distance romance."

"Okay," Leslie said, hastily scrawling notations, "but you lost me somewhere. I left you with Jason. What happened to him?"

Myeko aimed her smirk at all four of her friends. "Oh, now, this is the good part—I was saving this for last. Almost from the moment you left, Leslie, and I got a good look at Jason Wellman, I thought he looked familiar, like I'd seen him around somewhere. I didn't mention it, though, I just started up a conversation. Man, he really seemed like The One. He was nice, great personality, cute face, nice body, the works. I could just see him in a hard hat, and it was kind of getting me worked up." She grinned at the various reactions of the others: Camille and Lauren snickered; Maureen rolled her eyes and Leslie chuckled softly, shaking her head.

"Then how come you aren't having lunch with him instead of us?" Maureen asked.

"Because he started talking about his ex-wife too, but not the way poor Dan Cole was talking about his. Jason sounded really proud of himself, like he'd accomplished some major achievement in life or something. He was telling me how well-off he's been getting with all these lucrative construction contracts his company's been getting, and that his ex wasn't going to see one red cent of it, and he was making her pay through the nose for what she did to him—whatever it was, exactly—and so on and so on. All I could think was, _Boy, am I glad I'm not your poor ex-wife._ And then he said, 'She thinks she's so smart, she wanted to go back to school and get a degree and become a nurse…and no wife of mine works. She stays home and raises the boys.' Which tipped me off that he apparently has at least two sons, and that's when it finally hit me where I'd seen him before. He was on _America's Most Wanted_—he's a deadbeat dad and he owes his ex-wife and his sons about seventy thousand dollars in backed-up alimony."

"Whoa!" blurted Camille, and Leslie, Lauren and Maureen all gasped.

"Did you turn him in?" Maureen demanded urgently.

"Right there in front of him and about three hundred other people? He'd have taken off and been gone from this island before you could say squat," scoffed Myeko. "I just played dumb and went along with everything he was saying. I started telling him about my kids, and he thought they sounded cute and so on, and then I said I was getting kind of hungry. He said he was too, but he already had plans for lunch, so he asked me to meet him at his bungalow at about one-thirty. Leslie, you should know which one he's staying in."

Leslie nodded. "I sure do," she said. "He'll get visitors at one-thirty all right, but not you. Don't go near him again, Myeko."

"Good advice," Lauren seconded. "Hey, maybe you'll be famous for helping catch a wanted man. Heck, maybe you'll even get some reward money." They all laughed.

Leslie sat up. "Myeko, after lunch I'll take you to the police station and we'll give the constables what they need to arrest Jason Wellman and hold him for deportation. I think you pulled that off perfectly—gave the guy a false sense of security so he thinks he's safe by hiding out on Fantasy Island—and that'll make it much easier to get him into custody. Great job."

Myeko shrugged self-deprecatingly. "Well, it's nice to know I've done my good deed for the day…but my fantasy hasn't progressed too far. All I've done so far is eliminate candidates. I think I'm down to three now—those two Asian guys and that accountant."

"Well, it's up to you whatever you want to do," said Leslie, settling back and watching her expectantly.

"Well, I'm not giving up now," Myeko said determinedly. "I thought, with all these other guys out of the running already, I'd better put the two Asians back into the race. But before I go that route, I guess I need to meet the other one. Who was he again?"

"Philip Holliday," Leslie said. "An accountant from California."

Lauren, Camille and Maureen looked at one another; Myeko's expression became dubious. "An accountant? I know you pointed him out to me at the pool this morning, but would you mind refreshing my memory as to what he looked like?"

"Well, he had his back to us, so we didn't really see him," Leslie said, choosing her words with care, "but he's a little underweight, I know that. Light-brown hair, I think. Poor guy, I felt really sorry for him. He's so average-looking, even I can't remember just what he looks like, and that's part of my job in the course of granting your fantasy."

"A wallflower," Lauren said. "Wow, Myeko, maybe you shouldn't discount those two Asian guys out of hand like that. How come you didn't want to meet them?"

"Toki," said Myeko, and the others nodded.

"Well, then," Camille said, "first you and Leslie have that Jason guy arrested, and then you go meet this Philip somebody. Hey, you never know, he might surprise you."

"Right," said Leslie. "I think people worry too much about looks over personality when they're looking for a significant other. Sometimes the most dishwater-bland types in looks are the nicest, most wonderful people you could ever hope to meet. Give him a chance, Myeko, and see what happens. Then nobody can ever say you didn't try."

Myeko nodded, looking pensive. "Okay, I'll give it a shot, but I think I'm going to head home first and get freshened up a little. I'm still full of chlorine from my 'swim' with the lawyer this morning."

"Hold it, you didn't mention that," Lauren broke in. "Here comes the waitress. Myeko, you're holding out on us. While we're eating, you better talk."

"You're so nosy," Myeko kidded her. "Weren't we all above the gossip chain back in high school?"

"Look who's talking—the author of Fantasy Island's very own newspaper gossip column," Maureen teased.

"It's usually Hollywood gossip, not local gossip. Not enough juicy stuff happens around here to make local nosiness worthwhile," Myeko said, evoking laughter. The girls put in their lunch orders and spent the rest of the meal chatting.

After their trip to the police station—and another unscheduled trip to the Lotus Bungalow to make certain that the constables put Jason Wellman in handcuffs—Leslie and Myeko arranged for Myeko to come to the main house about three-thirty, which would give her plenty of time to shower and change clothes. "I'll have Philip Holliday come over just before that," said Leslie, "so you can meet on neutral ground. Father's going to be out all afternoon, as I understand it, because of the other fantasy. I'll be there, though."

"Great," said Myeko. "In that case, see you then."

The main house was deserted when Leslie came back in, although within five minutes after her arrival, Mariki appeared from the kitchen at a fast clip. "Miss Leslie," she said, "is there something wrong with Mr. Roarke?"

Leslie stopped in surprise and stared at her. "What do you mean? What makes you ask that?"

"He was very snappish at lunch," Mariki said, "and that's not like him at all. I thought he might be ill or something. Once I saw him put his hand up to his forehead, like it hurt."

Leslie processed this with some surprise. "Maybe he is," she mused. "He got upset with me this morning because I told him I was granting a fantasy for one of my friends, and he seemed unusually ticked off about it. I didn't think much of it at the time, except that it seemed he was madder at me than at his other assistants who'd done the same thing before, but it never occurred to me that it might be something other than just annoyance. I think the other fantasy has him kind of worked up too, but if he's not feeling well…"

"I just thought you should know," Mariki said.

Leslie nodded. "Thanks, Mariki, I'll look into it when I see him again," she promised. The cook nodded and retreated to the kitchen, and she gave a deep sigh. Before she settled down to make another series of phone calls, she checked her e-mail hopefully. Her reward was another message from Christian.

_Hello, my darling!_

_It was a treat to see your reply in my in-box. So you're granting a fantasy, are you? Well, I don't know about Mr. Roarke, but be assured, I have faith in you. Let me know how it's going, and I hope Myeko gets what she's looking for, too._

_As for the telephone call, I rather wish you had a phone of your own. It would be easier for me to talk freely to you without the feeling that Mr. Roarke was there listening in, whether he meant to be or not. But if you think you can find a private place and time for us to talk, let me know and I'll call you tonight. I must admit it would be a thrill to hear your voice again._

_Well, it's off to another sales-pitch appointment with too much coffee and too many reporters trying to sneak in and get interviews with the visiting foreign prince. Lately I've been hounded for comments on my marriage to Marina—somehow her rant at Arnulf finally got leaked to the press, and they're having a field day with it. At least the truth is out—that's my way of making something positive out of it all! I hope to talk to you tonight. I love you so much, my Leslie Rose._

_All my love,  
Christian_

She smiled, feeling slightly rueful. Before she could send him a response, she was going to have to talk to Roarke and sound him out on his schedule for the evening and his general mood overall. Mariki's suspicion that he might be ill made her nervous, and she resolved to herself to clear the air with Roarke once and for all.


	5. Chapter 5

July 29, 2000

When suppertime arrived, Leslie was feeling pretty good about things: Jason Wellman was on his way back to the states to face the music for his misdeeds; TSgt. Rick Larsen, Jeff Lippert, Tony DuLongpré and even Adam Baines had really hit it off with the women to whom Leslie had introduced them; and Dan Cole's ex-wife was on her way to the island, having agreed (though with palpable reluctance) to at least talk to the poor man. Mike Doyle, the soccer player from England, had hit pay dirt too, after finding he had a great deal in common with one of the fans who'd been hanging around him all day. Paul Chen was more caught up in his revenge fantasy than in meeting women, and Nicholas Okada, the veterinarian, had been called to the stables on an emergency; with luck she could help them out tomorrow. And even Philip Holliday had a date with Myeko now.

Their meeting had gone well enough, though Philip had been extremely self-conscious, putting Myeko somewhat ill at ease. "You can talk to anybody," Leslie had said to her just before she'd followed Philip out the door for a visit to the casino. "Just be yourself and you'll probably loosen him up in no time at all. Everybody likes a sense of humor, and you have a terrific one. So good luck!"

"I hope that extends to winning something at the casino too," Myeko had said with a raised eyebrow, and Leslie had grinned and watched them heading up the lane. Now she made her way out to the table on the porch and took her usual seat, waiting quietly for Roarke.

It wasn't long before he arrived, looking a little grim, and Leslie waited for him to speak first, unsure of his mood. Roarke glanced at her as he sat down. "So you decided to keep me company for this meal?" he asked, without inflection.

Leslie sighed loudly and focused fully on him. "Are you sure you're all right?" she asked, trying to control her blooming exasperation. "I don't understand why you're being like this, and Mariki mentioned you weren't much different at lunch. I can understand your not being too happy about my taking liberties with granting Myeko's fantasy, but even Tattoo's craziest escapades never met with the kind of wrath you're pouring all over me. And Mariki didn't even do anything, and you've been treating her the same way. So what gives?"

Roarke stared at her in sheer amazement for a long moment, then seemed to slump a little in his chair and closed his eyes. "I apologize, Leslie," he said quietly. "I've been aware on some level all day that my temper has been quite short, but I've had enough else on my mind that it never seemed to call for my full attention. Paul Chen's fantasy has turned out to be one of the most troublesome I have encountered in many years. The man himself is stubborn to a fault, and I am afraid that if I leave him to his own devices, he may carry things too far. The entire conundrum has given me a headache such as I haven't known for a very long time."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Leslie said. "What about that stuff you made up for Paola? You could take some of that, if there's any left."

Roarke opened his eyes and studied her. "I am either more ill than I thought, or simply more tired," he admitted self-deprecatingly and smiled. "You're right, it never occurred to me. If you'll inform Mariki, I'll go and take some. Excuse me."

Leslie wondered a little uneasily what, exactly, Paul Chen had in mind against the poor man he so badly wanted to confront. When Roarke came back a few minutes later, she asked, "Didn't Mr. Chen have his meeting with the son of his grandfather's captor?"

"Oh, yes, he did," Roarke said, resuming his seat and looking a little more refreshed. "I was there to moderate, as a matter of fact. Never before have I seen the sort of vitriol Mr. Chen has reserved for a man whom it's impossible for him to meet. He left the man's son quite shaken. Unfortunately, Mr. Chen does not wish to leave it at that: he knows the son has a family, and now is demanding that he be allowed to confront _them."_

Leslie's mouth dropped open in disbelief. "What on earth can he possibly expect to gain from all this?" she wondered rhetorically, pouring herself some mango juice. "All he's doing is leaving a lot of pain in his wake, and maybe some memories and emotions that were best left alone. And if he's allowed to contact the son's children, who knows what kind of questions they'll have, and what kind of damage will be done."

"Indeed," Roarke agreed wearily. "Leslie, my child, I must ask you a great favor. If you don't mind remaining in the office until about ten this evening, I plan to retire early this evening. Oh, and by the way…you can tell Christian that it's perfectly fine for him to call you."

"How'd you know?" Leslie demanded, but Roarke merely smiled again. She grinned, remembering too late as always that there were still mysteries about her father that she would never solve, and got up from her place to give him a gentle hug around the shoulders. "I'm glad we cleared things up. I felt like I was walking on eggs all day long."

"Is that why you stayed away from the house most of the day? I _am_ sorry, sweetheart," Roarke said, reaching up to squeeze her hand. "That reminds me…how is Myeko's fantasy progressing? I admit, I'm more than a little interested in knowing how you're handling it."

"I think I'm doing pretty well," Leslie said and brought him up to date on all the happenings thus far, going back to her chair and beginning to fill her plate while she talked. "So Myeko and Philip are supposed to be going to the luau together this evening. I should know how things went by tomorrow morning at the latest."

Roarke looked pleasantly surprised. "Very well done, Leslie! I must particularly commend you on your quick actions in apprehending Jason Wellman, once Myeko informed you of her suspicions regarding him. How are your other friends?"

Dinner was a pleasant event, and shortly after he'd finished what turned out to be a very light repast (for him at least), he decided to call it a night. Half an hour later Leslie had sent Christian a message letting him know he could call her anytime, and was idly playing some games on the computer. Most of their guests were at the luau; it was rare that one or the other of them wasn't there for at least a short while, making sure everyone was happy, but it wasn't unknown. Eventually she lost interest in the games and sat there with a dreamy smile on her face, thinking of Christian.

At the luau, Myeko and Philip were sitting at a table, both busying themselves with a large plate of fruit that they'd decided to split between them. Myeko knew this one was going to be another bust: she and Philip had run out of conversation within ten minutes after their trip to the casino, in which neither had won anything and both had lost more than they felt comfortable about. Philip seemed to think the idea of going to the luau with Myeko sounded promising, so here they were, dining on tropical delicacies and looking at everything but each other.

"Uh, you know, you don't have to stay with me if you don't want to," Philip finally ventured, sounding resigned. "I know this isn't working for you—there's no chemistry here, at least for you. So you can leave if you'd rather."

Myeko overreacted out of guilt, her face heating with embarrassment. "Oh, come on, Phil, being with you isn't the worst thing I've ever experienced. You shouldn't make it sound like it is." _It might be in the top ten, though,_ she thought and then mentally slapped herself for thinking it. But it was hard not to blame the man for his defeatist attitude. Philip Holliday was just slightly underweight and had nondescript brownish hair and eyes of a color that Myeko couldn't quite make out, even though he didn't wear glasses. He was dressed in a button-down shirt and khaki slacks, as if he wasn't sure how to dress to relax; and his face, while not unattractive, bore the battle scars from an unfortunate war with teenage acne. He was a classic nerd, and Myeko felt sorry for him—though at the same time she was feeling a little sorry for herself too, that it had come down to this.

"Well," Philip said, "I can tell you're not having a very good time."

Myeko cleared her throat and sternly reprimanded herself to take the lead and see to it that they both got some enjoyment out of this. "The night's not over yet, Phil. How about we do some dancing? It doesn't have to be anything showy, just swaying to a nice slow song."

"I…I guess I can handle that," Philip said a bit reluctantly, and he and Myeko got up and moved to the dance floor. A languid Hawaiian ballad was playing, and they stood a little stiffly in each other's cautious embrace and rocked back and forth from one foot to the other in time with each other.

"You know what really gets me?" Philip asked unexpectedly. "That I actually thought coming here would change things. I mean, like once I stepped foot on this island, something about the place would turn me into a good-looking guy with personality and self-assurance. But I'm just mousy, boring old Philip Holliday. You know, nobody else ever called me Phil. Not even Toni Karlsen, and she knew me pretty well for a while. My dad dated her mom for a few months."

Myeko was skeptical, but she smiled politely. "Toni Karlsen, the actress? Interesting. When did your parents get divorced?"

"I was twelve. My parents had equal custody, so my brother and sister and I were forever shuffling back and forth between Chatsworth and Pacific Palisades. Dad's always been an opinionated, domineering type. My sister was a whiny brat till she hit high school, and then she turned into a popular whiny brat. My brother picked fights with everybody he saw, just because he could. And I was just plain invisible." Philip shrugged, while Myeko listened, her eyes wide at the fact that he was talking this much. "I guess I got used to it. Never had a date all the way through high school. Well, to be honest, I never actually had a date, period."

"Oh, come on, you gotta be exaggerating," Myeko protested, genuinely amazed.

"Well, slightly," Philip said and grinned all of a sudden. "I had a date in college once, with the younger sister of a classmate. She was even more scared of me than I was of her, and I haven't heard from her since. I don't think my classmate has either!"

Myeko's eyes popped and she burst out laughing; Philip joined in. "I guess it's really true," Myeko giggled, "there's always somebody worse off than you." Again they broke into merriment, catching some curious glances and smiles from other guests. "Listen, you want to have a real dinner someplace? Fruit's great, but I'm pretty hungry, to tell the truth."

"Sounds great," Philip agreed. "I've been eating at the hotel, but I hear the pond restaurant's pretty good."

So that was where they wound up, ordering the most exotic dishes on the menu and talking a little more about their dating escapades in high school and college. In actual fact it was Myeko who carried most of that conversation, and they were both aware of this, so that when Philip offered to walk her home, she knew whatever rapport might have sparked between them had died a quiet little death. On her front stoop, they faced each other, now both self-conscious and wondering how to call a graceful end to the evening.

"I really had a great time," Philip said finally. "I honestly didn't know a date could be that much fun. You give me some hope for my future." He grinned.

Myeko grinned back. "Hey, I wish you luck. There's supposed to be somebody for everyone, so if you keep trying, you just might find your somebody."

"I hope you're right," Philip said, shifting his weight and clearing his throat. "Look, I don't want you to misunderstand me here, but I just wondered if you'd mind if I kissed you good night. I mean, I never…" He trailed off and looked away.

Myeko got his meaning almost immediately and tried very hard not to react, but her expression when Philip turned back to her spoke more loudly than she knew. He rolled his eyes. "I know, that's a dumb thing for a thirty-six-year-old guy to admit, but I just didn't want you to be offended or to get the idea that I was trying to take advantage of you or something."

"Look," said Myeko, "I've got a good enough impression of you by now that I know you'd never do something like that. You're a really nice guy, Philip, and I'm not just trying to let you down easy or anything like that." She took in his faintly skeptical expression and smiled. "Come here." She reached up, gently pulled his head a little closer and kissed him.

It lasted maybe five seconds, and no sparks flew, but Philip smiled gratefully all the same. "You're a catch, Myeko," he said quietly, "and I sure hope you find a guy who realizes that. Thanks, and best of luck, and good night."

"Good night, Phil," Myeko replied, watching him cross her yard and disappear into the dark. _So there are still some truly nice guys left out there,_ she thought and smiled to herself, letting herself in. It gave her additional hope for the rest of her weekend.


	6. Chapter 6

July 30, 2000

Leslie and Myeko met for brunch at the pond restaurant, where at the moment it was relatively quiet. They were lingering over buffet breakfasts, and at Myeko's persistent request Leslie had told her about hers and Christian's phone call from the night before. "So he's where now, in Australia?" Myeko asked.

Leslie nodded. "He was telling me he could see the Sydney Opera House from his hotel room," she remembered. "We were talking about my weekend and his trip, and it got into how much we miss each other—somehow it always does that. He said that it would've been our fourth wedding anniversary…and we could have been celebrating it together, if Arnulf and the count hadn't conspired to waste four years of our lives for their own selfish ends." She stared at her plate. "I couldn't stop thinking about that, and it took me forever to fall asleep."

"You can't let those two old goats get you down, Leslie," Myeko said, then thought over what she had said. "Say, just how old are the goats in question here?"

Her query made Leslie laugh, a little halfheartedly. "I don't know about the count. It was my impression he's in his 70s, or maybe the equivalent, his being one of Father's people and all. But Arnulf's ten years older than Christian, which makes him 51 now. That's not really so old. Maybe it's only because Arnulf comes across that way, somehow." She made a face and deliberately focused on her friend. "So tell me, what happened last night on your date at the luau?"

Myeko gave Leslie a rundown of the previous evening's events. "It seems kind of sad," she mused after a while. "I mean, I'm almost kind of sorry I didn't fall for poor Phil. He seemed like a nice guy under that nerdy shell, and all he really needed was someone to bring him out of it. But I just didn't feel any sparks."

"That's okay," said Leslie. "Don't beat yourself up about it, Myeko. You're better off being honest anyway, and besides, it sounds to me like he really appreciated it."

Myeko half-smiled. "Yeah, I guess he did, come to think of it, didn't he? I sure hope he finds somebody before he has to leave here. As for me…I may not have to leave, but I'm not sure I'm going to get my fantasy."

"Well, you still haven't met all ten of your prospects yet—there's a couple left to go," Leslie pointed out. "I think Nicholas Okada is still down at the stables, but I can get in touch with them and set up a meeting. And there's the other guy, too. I can try to set up something for lunch, or early this afternoon. Let me know."

"Okay. I need to call the kids at Toki's and see how things are going," Myeko said. "I might have to fly out on tomorrow morning's plane to make sure they have adult escort back home, because I doubt Toki or his wife will really want to bother. So I'll have to straighten all that out. I'll call you after I'm done with that."

"That's fine," said Leslie and glanced at her watch. "Oops. I better get back to the main house…Father asked me to be back for something important. Talk to you in a little while."

"See ya," Myeko said and watched her leave a couple of bills on the table before hurrying out of the restaurant. She decided now was as good a time as any to go home and make her call, and arose to leave as well.

"You're not leaving already, are you?" asked a curious male voice, and she looked around to see a somewhat stocky Asian man with a touch of gray watching her with interest. "I thought it would be a perfect time to introduce myself…" He happened, like Leslie before him, to check his watch and let out a loud groan. "Except that it's not. I really have to make this appointment. But listen, can we meet here for lunch? Or we could eat at the hotel if you'd rather go someplace different."

Very surprised, Myeko smiled automatically. "Oh, sure, I guess so," she agreed, trying to gather her wits. "The hotel sounds nice. We could meet in the lobby." That way, she figured, she could be certain of witnesses if something untoward happened; after all, she wasn't sure if this was one of the guys Leslie had planned to introduce her to.

"Great," the man said enthusiastically. "The hotel it is…say twelve-thirty?"

"Okay," she said, nodding. It would give her more than enough time to make her call and then get in touch with Leslie. She gave the man a smile, which he returned in spades before half-running out of the restaurant. Myeko shrugged to herself, paid and headed for home.

About two hours later Myeko, fuming, strode at a brisk walk to the hotel, trying to work off her anger. _It wouldn't have killed Toki to accompany Alexander and Noelle home,_ she groused to herself. _Cripes, he's lucky island residents have to pay only fifty bucks a flight to Hawaii, because otherwise I'd never be able to go back and get them myself. I think I'm gonna take it out of his hide anyway…after all, between that miracle job of his and this big family he seems to think he can support, I'm sure he can afford it! How come I never realized what a skinflint he can be? It's perfectly okay for him to lavish everything on his new family, but when it comes to me and Alexander and Noelle, forget it! I don't care so much for myself, but Alexander and Noelle deserve better than that. I really ought to challenge his custody rights, if he puts their half-brother and stepmother above them. I wish I were on better terms with his parents…I wish I could just get my fantasy, for crying out loud!!_

"You okay?" someone asked her, and she was jolted rudely out of her boiling reverie to see the fellow she'd met at brunch waiting for her just outside the hotel-lobby doors. He grinned when she focused on him, and she supposed he was laughing at what had to be her tomato-red face. Despite herself she grinned sheepishly.

"Just a crummy phone call with my ex, that's all," she said and shrugged, "but you don't want to hear about all that. I have to admit, I wasn't a hundred percent sure you'd show up."

"Are you kidding? Do you think I'd miss a chance to get to know a pretty lady like you?" the man exclaimed. "Come on in and let's find a table somewhere." He held the door open for her and ushered her in ahead of him, and she slipped in, spirits oddly improved by his old-fashioned manners. Halfway through the lobby, he caught up and offered his hand, stopping them both in the middle of the floor. "Just to formalize things, I'm Paul Chen."

"Nice to meet you, Paul. I'm Myeko Sensei," she said, reaching for his hand.

He froze where he stood and stared at her, his smile dying like magic, the friendly spark vanishing from his eyes. His entire expression iced over even as she stared, and she arrested her movement midway, involuntarily stepping back a pace or two. "Are you okay?" she ventured.

"Sensei, you said?" he asked, eyes narrowing nearly to slits.

"Yeah…" Myeko tensed.

Chen pulled his hand back and surveyed her speculatively, as if regarding a particularly ugly lab rat in a failed experiment. "Well, then, I guess I can get my piece out of you, since I couldn't get one out of your father," he said.

Myeko, utterly bewildered, gaped at him. "What're you talking about? You know my father? I don't get this! What's going on?"

Paul Chen rolled his eyes. "I suppose now you're going to claim you never heard the story, are you? Fine, I'll humor you, then. Your grandfather held mine as a prisoner of the Sino-Japanese war over sixty years ago and made his life a living hell through endless torture. Almost two years of the most brutal deeds one man ever committed against another. Ever since I was a kid, Granddad told me the stories of his memories, and he didn't spare one gory detail. From the first time I heard those stories, I was determined to get revenge on that monster. So I came here to find him, and I hear he's stone-cold dead. Suits me, but I mean to get revenge for Granddad one way or another. So if I can't get it out of your demon of a grandfather, or even from your father, I'll get it from you."

Myeko was frozen in shock, momentarily unable to think. When Chen made a move towards her, though, terror sprang to life in her gut and she backpedaled away from him at speed. "Wh…what're you going to do to me?" she cried.

"Come on, sweetheart," Chen said, his eyes and face as cruel now as they had been friendly just moments before. "I'll show you the meaning of torture, and then you'll know how my grandfather felt." He seized her arm before she could skip out of his reach and started to drag her towards the lobby doors.

"Somebody help me," Myeko shrieked, panicking. This served to enrage Chen all the more, and before she could see whether her cry had produced any response, he had yanked her out the door and was towing her forcibly across the parking lot toward the Ring Road. He crossed it, heedless of the jeep that came around a bend and headed right for them; Myeko screamed, Chen shouted curses, and the jeep's driver leaned on the horn, sailing past them and out of sight in spite of Myeko's frantic wails for help. Chen tightened his grip on her arm, snarled at her to shut up and hauled her around in front of him, brutally shoving her down the path ahead of him on the way to who-knew-where.

"…Well, I knew we needed a full-time resident veterinarian anyway," Leslie was telling Roarke at that exact moment, strolling alongside him up the Main House Lane, "and when Nicholas Okada's letter came, I thought we might kind of kill two birds with one stone. The stable master said he's worked miracles with that horse, and in a couple of weeks Cloud Chaser should be as good as new again."

"Your friend Camille and her family have a dog, don't they?" Roarke remarked. "Not only that, but we have many other pet owners on the island, and if we can persuade Dr. Okada to remain, his services will be invaluable to us all. There should be…" He cut himself off as a cry reached their ears, as of someone in pain. Roarke and Leslie looked at each other in surprise and a touch of alarm, but before either could react further than that, two figures came around a sharp bend in the trail and nearly ran them down. Leslie gasped.

Roarke, like his daughter, instantly recognized them both. "Mr. Chen, what are you doing?" he demanded, his voice loud, authoritative and filled with anger.

Paul Chen, caught completely by surprise, stopped short and stared at Roarke, inadvertently letting Myeko loose. She broke away from him and stumbled past Roarke and Leslie, sobbing hysterically. Chen recovered in the moment it took Roarke and Leslie to assess her condition and lunged after her, half maddened in his single-minded quest. "Get back here!" he shouted.

"Father, he's going to hurt her!" Leslie cried out urgently, catching her friend and shielding her from Chen as best she could.

Roarke caught Chen by one arm and held him fast, his dark eyes blazing, his handsome features carved in grim, furious lines. No matter how much Chen struggled, he couldn't break free of Roarke's iron grip. "I'm afraid you're not going to reach your original destination, Mr. Chen," Roarke said quietly, though Leslie clearly heard the tightly leashed rage in his voice. "Leslie, if you'll kindly accompany us back to the main house to be certain Mr. Chen doesn't decide to take further action, I would appreciate it if you would make some phone calls for me."

"You got it, Father," Leslie agreed immediately. "And you can bet I'll be more than a little interested in hearing this guy's story." She turned then to Myeko. "Hey, calm down, you're safe now. Come on, let's get back to the main house and find out what happened."

"You have to call the police," Myeko sobbed. "Please."

"We will," Leslie said, casting a confused glance at Roarke but primarily trying to soothe Myeko. "We'll get the whole story, I promise. You're okay now."

At the main house, Chen, now sullen, glared at Myeko, who shrank behind Leslie. "Don't you dare touch me," she cried.

"We won't let him," Leslie said, turning then to Chen and scowling. "What on earth came over you? I was going to introduce you to Myeko earlier anyway, but—"

"I had warned you not to do that yesterday morning," Roarke interrupted her, his voice heavy with regret. "Don't you remember?"

"I do, but you didn't explain why," Leslie said, perplexed.

Roarke sighed deeply. "First of all, Mr. Chen, you will sit down, and if you dare move from that chair—particularly in Ms. Sensei's direction—you will find yourself in far more trouble than you do now. I daresay you stand to face more of it in any event. What was your intention with regard to Ms. Sensei?"

Chen was breathing heavily, a half-crazed glint in his eyes that exploded into a fiery glare every time he looked toward Myeko. "I was going to make her suffer," he said, his voice a rasp totally unlike that of the man Roarke and Leslie had first met the previous morning. "She deserves it."

"For what?" Leslie demanded. "What's she ever done to you?"

Roarke cleared his throat. "You see, Leslie, the soldier who tortured Mr. Chen's grandfather was Myeko's grandfather," he said gently, taking in Leslie's slack-jawed shock. "A man by the name of Hideo Sensei."

"Sensei!" Chen exploded. "All my life that name's been a curse to my family! One way or another, that family's going to pay for everything Granddad went through!" His face twisted into a sneer. "And who the hell was he to take on a name like that? I know enough Japanese culture to know how pretentious that is. _Sensei_ is Japanese for 'teacher'—one of the most respected and revered titles any Japanese can hold. Who did that monster think he was to call himself _sensei_ and think he had a birthright to it?"

"I never even _knew_ my grandfather, you raving maniac!" Myeko suddenly shouted, the strength born of her natural ebullience surging back to the fore. "Where do you get off thinking I'm responsible for the deeds of a man I never met? I suppose you think I went out and deliberately picked what family I was going to be born into?" Her voice shifted into a mocking falsetto. " 'I really want to belong to the family of that pretentious Japanese soldier…come on, stork, deliver me to his son and daughter-in-law!' " Her unexpected recovery punched a hole in Chen's insane rage, and he stared at her, clearly amazed at her counterattack. "Maybe my grandfather was a monster to do whatever he did to yours, but when you come around trying to beat me up for something that happened before I was even born, that makes you a monster too! Did you ever think of that?" She turned to Roarke without waiting for a response. "Mr. Roarke, please, call the police. I want to press charges against this creep. I think his intention was to rape me, or something similar. He kept talking about showing me the meaning of torture."

Roarke nodded, reaching for the phone. "You're certain you're going to be all right, Myeko? Did he seriously harm you?"

"No, he just left some bruises on my arms," Myeko said, blowing out her breath. "I hope I can make something stick against him. You and Leslie saw us coming down the path, didn't you? I think I can get him for assault anyway."

"I think so too," Leslie agreed, watching Roarke make the call. She gave a long, melancholy sigh and half turned away, hanging her head. "Oh, God, Myeko, I'm so sorry. I never once dreamed you'd wind up in so much danger. I feel awful."

Myeko turned to her. "Knock it off, Leslie. Nothing really happened to me—I guess I'm lucky you and Mr. Roarke happened to be in the right place at the right time." She made a face. "I think I'm going to have to have a long talk with my parents, though. I never had a clue as to why they left Japan and settled here. I guess now I know."

"I just wish your fantasy could have had a happier ending," Leslie murmured.

"Hey, did you forget? I still have one more guy to meet, right?" Myeko reminded her with an impish grin. "And as soon as we get Jerk-O here into a nice cozy jail cell, you better take me to meet him." She got up from her seat, while Roarke, who had concluded the call, watched with amusement and Chen sat in sullen silence. "You don't get to welch out on granting me my fantasy, Leslie Hamilton, so don't even think about it."

Leslie eyed her, slowly beginning to grin. "Well, I guess that proves you're all right," she said, chuckling. "Same old Myeko. Okay, tell you what, let's take care of our errant guest, and then we're going to take a little walk down to the stables." She grinned and hugged her friend, who unabashedly returned it, while Roarke smiled broadly and went to the door to let in the island policemen who had just arrived.

* * *

**A/N:** _My computer is finally back in working order! By the end of this week the conclusion will be up, so stay tuned!_


	7. Chapter 7

§ § § -- July 30, 2000

Not quite an hour after Myeko's altercation with Paul Chen, she and Leslie were on their way to the stables to meet Nicholas Okada. Myeko looked a little subdued after her ordeal, and Leslie kept glancing at her unusually quiet friend as she drove. Finally she ventured, "Are you willing to talk about it yet, or would you rather wait?"

"It's not the creep that's bugging me," Myeko said, "it's the story he told about my grandfather. I only half believed it till Mr. Roarke confirmed it to you. I'm just trying to think of a way to broach this at my parents." She looked at Leslie. "And do you think this Nicholas Okada is going to judge me the way Paul Chen did?"

"Why would he?" Leslie asked. "He doesn't know anything about your background, and in any case it's none of his business—not unless something develops between you two and you're willing to tell him about it. And then, if he does judge you, he won't be worth it."

Myeko slumped in her seat. "I guess I knew that, but this guy's my last chance. I really _want_ him to be worth it, you know?"

Leslie smiled in sympathy. "I do know. Well, we won't find out till you meet him."

At the stables, she parked not too far from the rows of stalls and led Myeko along, through groups of vacationers looking to rent horses for an hour or two, till she reached a stall whose door stood open. Myeko hung back a couple of feet while Leslie knocked on the top of the half-door. "Dr. Okada, are you here?"

"Yep, just come on in," a voice called from somewhere deep within, and Leslie stepped around the door and slipped inside with Myeko trailing her. A dark head popped up over the back of the palomino horse whose stall it was, and Leslie grinned.

"Hi, Dr. Okada. How's Cloud Chaser doing today?" Leslie asked.

"Miss Leslie, good to see you. He's just fine—going to be good as new." The vet pushed his wire-rimmed glasses back up the bridge of his nose and returned her grin. "This guy's a real fighter, and I think I've got a new friend."

"Super," said Leslie. "How about another new friend? Human, in this case." She saw his eyes light with interest and tugged the still-uncertain Myeko around from behind her. "Myeko Sensei, meet Dr. Nicholas Okada."

The two assessed each other; Dr. Okada's friendly smile widened to one of real interest. "It's good to meet you, Myeko. You can call me Nick if you want, most of my friends do. Only my mother calls me Nicholas, and then I think I've done something wrong."

This seemed to startle a laugh out of Myeko. "Wow," she said. "In that case, I'd be glad to call you Nick. Where do you come from?"

"I've had a practice in Maricopa, Arizona, for a little over six years," he said. Unnoticed by either of them, Leslie slipped quietly out of the stall and disappeared. "When I wrote here and asked for a fantasy to meet a good woman, I mentioned I was a vet, and Miss Leslie's letter said something about this island really needing its own permanent vet. I just might stick around here; it's a beautiful place. Besides, I had an ancient great-aunt who used to live here, and I think her property is still in my mother's name. I'll have to see if I can take up residence there. She died almost twelve years ago, and as far as I know nobody's even come to take a look at the place since then." He stopped and rolled his eyes. "Good grief, just listen to me. I really rattle on when I get excited about something, and I'm excited about moving my practice here."

Myeko grinned, her spirits lifting. "Hey, welcome to the island. I live here too, actually—I'm a native. This is probably going to sound something like nepotism, but Leslie and I have been friends for years, and I asked her for the same kind of fantasy—to meet a decent guy."

"Then that already gives us something in common," Nick remarked. "I'm almost done with Cloud Chaser here. If you don't mind waiting a few minutes, I'll wrap things up here, and then maybe we could have some lunch if you're interested. Right now I'm staying in one of the bungalows, but I'm planning to see if Mr. Roarke'll let me borrow a jeep so I can head over and check out my great-aunt's old place. In fact, if you like, you could come with me for that too."

Myeko nodded eagerly. "You know, I'm beginning to think I recognize the place you're talking about. All through my high-school years, on the bus to school, we passed a big old farmhouse, on the northern side of the island, a little east of the middle. It always reminded me of pictures I used to see on the news and stuff of old-fashioned farms in the American Midwest. When I was little I thought the place was haunted because I never saw anyone there, and sometimes in high school I wondered if anyone really owned it."

Nick laughed and remarked, "That sounds like my great-aunt's place. Mom and I were her only living relatives, but I never actually met her. Anyway, let me get things cleaned up here, and we can talk over lunch."

The meal turned out to be the most enjoyable one either had had in a very long time; once they had grown a bit more at ease with each other, the talk flowed like a river. Myeko learned that Nick was thirty-eight and had never yet been married; he was an only child and his father had died when he was seventeen, just before he had finished high school. "That was when we got a letter from my great-aunt suggesting we move to Fantasy Island and live with her, but we couldn't afford to leave Maricopa. My dad left behind a lot of debt, and it took us more than ten years to pay it all off. And Mom doesn't want to leave Arizona. She's always been kind of a homebody."

"Don't you think your mom'll miss you when you move here?" Myeko asked. "I mean, since you're her only child and all…it might make her change her mind."

Nick shrugged. "She might be a homebody, but she's an active homebody. When I say that, I mean that she prefers the town she's lived in most of her life. She has loads of friends and is involved in all sorts of activities. There's no way she'd leave all that. Of course she'd miss me…well, at least I think so…" They both laughed. "…but she won't be lonely without me. So I'm looking forward to something new." He studied her, pushing his glasses up again, and said, "What about you?"

Myeko smiled. "I'm thirty-five, divorced, two kids—Alexander's eight and Noelle's six. Right now they're at their father's in Honolulu for the weekend. My parents and my sister still live on the island, and my twin brothers both live in Samoa. They don't get back here too much, but they call fairly often, so we know how they're doing. I was born here and I never really lived anywhere else, unless you count my college years in Hawaii. I write an entertainment column for the _Fantasy Island Chronicle_, so that kinda keeps me busy."

"Hey, sounds exciting. Met any celebrities?" Nick asked with interest.

"Oh, a few here and there. I met Devin Reilley a couple years ago or so, and I'm fairly well acquainted with Prince Christian of Lilla Jordsö." Myeko grinned impishly at his wide-eyed reaction. "I guess I should. He's Leslie's fiancé."

Nick's expression grew confused. "But he's married, isn't he?"

"It's an arranged marriage," Myeko said. "He met Leslie and popped the question before his brother, the king, sprung the fact of the proxy wedding on the poor guy. That was four years ago, and it amazes me how they're holding out through all this. If it were me, I think I'd have given up a long time ago. But Leslie's pretty stubborn, and anyway, she and Christian are crazy in love with each other. Christian's wife supposedly has this boyfriend in Italy, where she's from, and I guess she takes any excuse to go see him. Her father offered her in marriage as a stipulation of a business contract he had with the king; and his brother, the king in question, shoved him into it to fulfill the contract and get what he needed. It's for a spice he has to import and literally can't live without, and nobody else on earth grows it. Long story."

Nick whistled low. "Sounds really complicated. I don't know how things can work out, but I hope there'll be a happy ending there someday." He sat back and took a deep breath, then smiled at her. "You all set? I'm about ready to check out Aunt Edie's place."

"Sure," Myeko agreed cheerfully. "Let's go."

The farmhouse was indeed the one Myeko remembered from her childhood, and when Nick produced a key and unlocked the door, she found herself shivering. Nick noticed and grinned. "Still think it's haunted?"

Myeko laughed, a little embarrassed. "Old childhood superstitions die hard, I guess."

Nick laughed too and said, "Well, if there's anyone haunting the place, it's only old Aunt Edie. She'd be a friendly ghost, from all I've ever heard Mom say about her. Wow, the place is furnished! This'll be great for me. I'm renting a studio apartment in Maricopa right now, and to tell you the truth, I just never got around to getting much stuff for myself. I've got a futon and a recliner that's falling apart, and that's about it. I probably won't be shipping much here outside of my clothes and a few boxes of books, and maybe my stereo system and CDs. I can toss the chair and sell the futon…" His voice trailed off when they entered the kitchen.

"Holy cow," Myeko said without thinking, then blushed. "Oh geez, I'm sorry!"

"Don't be," said Nick, sounding a little dazed. "I agree with you." The kitchen was straight out of a time machine to the 1940s; everything needed updating, and when Nick found the power cord to the yellowing refrigerator and plugged it in, he discovered it didn't work at all. He gave a great sigh. "Well, there's my first remodeling project, I guess!"

They explored the rest of the house; there were other rooms that Nick admitted to wanting to redecorate, but the kitchen was at the top of the list. "Otherwise I just need to clean the place up," he said reflectively. "Uh, say…" He eyed Myeko with a hesitant, sidelong look. "I don't suppose you'd be interested in helping, would you?"

"It sounds like fun," Myeko said. "I actually like housecleaning. My friends think I'm a little fanatical, to tell you the truth. I should ask Leslie to tell you about the time she and my sister were visiting, and a fly got in the kitchen somehow, and I went positively berserk. I can't stand those dirty bugs. I'm afraid they'll give my kids something really nasty." She grinned sheepishly at his amused look. "Well, when you're a mom, you get a little protective."

"A little!" Nick teased, and they both laughed. "Your kids sound great—can't wait to meet them. Well, I guess we're done in here. Hey, listen, why don't we get together for dinner? I got hooked on the food at the pond restaurant, and if you're interested, it's my treat. It's also a thanks-in-advance for the help you're giving me on this place."

"Aw, what're friends for?" Myeko said, beaming. "I'd love it, thanks so much. Gosh, I wish Leslie had introduced you to me first, instead of last. We could've had a lot more time to get to know each other better."

Nick smiled. "I'm just glad she did introduce us. It might be a little soon to say this, but I have a feeling we've got something good here. Actually, I'd prefer to spend the whole afternoon with you, but duty called me this morning. The stable master told me there's a guy on the other end of the island whose cat is about to give birth, and from what I'm told, he's kind of squeamish and wants a pro around to be sure the kittens are born properly and are healthy."

Myeko observed with a grin, "I don't really blame him. I'd do it too. What time should we meet for dinner?"

"How about five?" Nick asked. "I should be done with this other call by then and have a chance to get cleaned up so you aren't embarrassed to be seen with me." Myeko rolled her eyes at that and he laughed. "Sound all right?"

"Sounds fabulous," Myeko agreed. "I just thought of something. Maybe when Leslie waited to introduce me, she was saving the best guy for last."

"I appreciate the thought," Nick remarked and smiled, then suddenly kissed her cheek. "She introduced me to three other women this weekend, but none of them clicked with me the way you do." They looked at each other, both slightly shy all of a sudden.

"Same here," Myeko said softly, and followed her urge to resettle his sliding glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. His eyes widened, she turned bright red and groaned aloud, and then they both burst out laughing. "Let's get out of here, huh?"

"I need to check out one more thing," Nick said, leaning forward and pressing his lips gently against hers. Instinctively Myeko closed her eyes, and when he retreated, she opened them to find him smiling broadly. "Now that doesn't need any improvement at all." Once more she blushed, and he chuckled and offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

She nodded and slipped her arm through his. _Wait till I tell Leslie,_ she thought. _Better yet, I'll tell Mr. Roarke. Maybe then he won't be so annoyed with her about my fantasy._ The thought made her grin, and in the yard she pulled her arm out of Nick's and slid it around his waist, out of pure happiness. He grinned at her and returned the gesture, and they ambled amiably back to the waiting jeep.


	8. Chapter 8

§ § § -- July 30, 2000

Myeko and Nick had made certain to arrange a formal dinner date for that evening; and now, while he was across the island tending to the cat and her kittens, Myeko found herself with a free afternoon and too many nagging questions. With a little trepidation she went to her parents' house, the same one where she had grown up, and was simultaneously relieved and unnerved to find Tadashi and Junko Sensei at home.

"Good to see you, honey," said Junko, smiling and hugging her firstborn. Junko, born to Japanese-immigrant parents and raised in Hawaii, was more open and affectionate than her reserved Japanese-native husband; Myeko had always been used to her father's reticence, though she had never doubted he had loved her and her siblings as much as her mother did.

"Hi, Mom," she said. "Is Dad around?"

Junko looked faintly wary. "He hasn't been feeling too well," she said.

"Because of that creep talking about his father?" Myeko guessed.

Junko stared at her, face paling. "How did you know about that?"

"Well…" Myeko sighed. "I asked Leslie to grant me a fantasy where I could meet some guys. I did meet a great one, and I'll get back to that later. But one of the others I met turned out to be this Chinese guy who said Dad's father tortured his grandfather in a POW camp during the Sino-Japanese war. He seemed really nice till he found out my surname, and then he went bonkers. I thought he was gonna rape me." She shuddered, and Junko gasped. "Don't worry, Mom, he didn't get the chance. Mr. Roarke and Leslie crossed our path, and they rescued me from the jerk. The cops hauled him off to jail, where I hope he stays for a while." She hesitated. "Mom, Dad never talked about why he left Japan and came here. I mean, I guess in the back of my head, I always thought our last name was kind of lofty-sounding, you know. But nobody ever called us on it, so I didn't think about it much. That guy wanted to know where Dad's father got off calling himself _sensei_, as if it were his birthright."

Junko pondered it for a moment or two, then said, "I know some of the story, honey, but not very much. I know it's very painful for your dad to think about, never mind talk about. It took Mr. Roarke almost a month to persuade him to face that Paul Chen, and then when he came home from the confrontation yesterday, he was shaking and physically sick."

Myeko winced. "Mom, I have to know. Maybe it's not a good time, but the creep really opened up a can of worms, and it's going to drive me nuts till I know the whole story."

Junko sighed deeply. "Well, let's see how he's feeling, but Myeko, don't push him too hard. And try not to judge him, all right?"

"Don't worry, Mom," Myeko said. "I just want to know the story—I know none of it's Dad's fault or anything." Her mother smiled, looking reassured, and led Myeko through the house to the den where Tadashi Sensei sat in a chair, a blanket over his lap, staring into space. Myeko leaned over and peered in alarm at her father; he looked suddenly far older than he had the last time she'd brought Alexander and Noelle over to visit. "Dad?"

Tadashi listlessly turned his head and focused on his daughter. "You have come for the full story," he said, voice flat, slight Japanese accent lending an extra formality to his demeanor.

"Yeah," said Myeko, settling on the ottoman in front of her father's chair and grasping his hands in hers. "But Dad, before you start, I just want you to know—I know whatever your father did, it's not your fault. I'm not going to blame you for anything. All I want is to hear the story. Please?"

Tadashi studied her, and a tiny smile flitted momentarily across his tired features before he relaxed. It looked more as if he slumped, to Myeko; but his grip on her hands tightened. Beside them, Junko settled into another chair, waiting in case Tadashi needed anything.

"As you know, Myeko, I was born in 1940. I was told by my father that he had been decorated many times over for his role in the war, and occasionally he would show me his medals; but he seemed to be fixated on what he called 'just punishment' of Chinese resistors who had been captured by the Japanese forces. And I am afraid I heard quite a few ugly horror stories in my early childhood. My mother leaped off the roof of our house when I was barely old enough to remember her—perhaps for the shame of being the man's wife, I don't know. I never properly understood the stigma my father brought down on our family, not until I became a teenager and learned more about the war in school.

"My father was a hard man. I was an only child, and all his expectations landed on my shoulders. He drank a great deal, especially after my mother's death; and when he was drunk, he talked about the war—in grisly, nightmarish detail. It grew to sicken me, and I quickly learned to pretend to listen to him, while in reality I tried to think of something else so that I could tune him out. It was easy in my childhood, for everything he had done occurred before I was born, and to me that time seemed like something out of a book.

"Then I started school, shortly after the war ended with Japan's surrender at the close of World War II. My teachers and classmates—indeed, everyone—pounced on my surname. What had I, a five-year-old child, done to earn the title of _sensei_? I told them it was my father's name, and this earned me scorn and derision. No, it isn't your real name, they told me. Go back to your father and find out your true name, and this is the name by which we will call you. I did as they requested, but my father flew into a rage and insisted that the family had always been called Sensei and always would be. He marched me to school the next day and told my teachers this in no uncertain terms. I was never openly questioned about it again, but there was always great disapproval, and much persecution from my classmates as I grew up. My father, a former soldier, impressed upon me that I was to take it like a man and never complain, to be proud of the name we bore.

"But I couldn't endure the stigma. In the end, I gathered everything I owned that I could carry in a backpack, and left my father's house for the last time. I was fifteen years old. I found my way to the docks, gave a false name, talked a freighter captain into giving me a job, and within a year found myself in Hawaii. This was before it became part of the United States, so that I was able to slip into the islands fairly unnoticed and start to forge a life for myself. It's not easy for a teenaged boy to earn his own way, and in the end a family named Shimizu took me in."

Myeko recognized the name and stared at her mother. "Mom, your parents took Dad in?"

Junko nodded, smiling faintly. "They were always compassionate people, and although it took the better part of three years for them to earn Tadashi's trust, they finally got the full story from him. That's when we finally learned his name was Sensei. Somehow he had managed to get away with revealing only his first name all that time. And by then, I'd fallen in love with your father."

Tadashi sent Junko a wan smile. "When your Shimizu grandparents discovered my surname, they were quite taken aback, and they told me very kindly that the Japanese community in the islands wouldn't look favorably on the name either. _Sensei_ is not meant to be a name; it's a title, one that shows the utmost respect, and it must be earned. It cannot be passed down from father to son as with any other name. For some time I considered calling myself Shimizu, but Junko would have none of that. She said it wasn't my choice to bear the name I did, and I should try to make of it what I could. And it was she who suggested we petition Mr. Roarke to come here, to escape the certain persecution we would face if we remained in Hawaii. We arrived here in 1961 and were married here."

"My parents tried to look into the matter," Junko said, "asking the Japanese authorities about a former soldier by the name of Hideo Sensei. They got very little, if any, information; it appeared that Hideo registered with the Japanese military under the name Sensei, and no one ever questioned him, for whatever reasons. Somehow the official record of Hideo's birth had been lost, and he had no other family, so that there was no way to trace his ancestry and find out the true family name. So Tadashi was in fact born with the name Sensei, and we have never determined what the original family name was."

"Wow," said Myeko faintly, overwhelmed. "My gosh, Dad…" She looked at her mother, then back at her father. "He's dead now, though, isn't he?"

"Yes, you were about twelve years old when it occurred," Tadashi said. "Somehow Mr. Roarke got a copy of an obituary that appeared in the newspaper of the town where he died, and gave it to me. It was only then that I learned anything more about Hideo Sensei. According to the obituary, he was born in 1907 and was an orphan. One thing they _didn't_ manage to uncover was the family name, but his being an orphan explained a great deal to me. I suspect that he took on the surname at some point in his early life and clung to it as his own, whether he knew his birth name or not."

"He sounds like a guy with a serious ego problem," Myeko remarked.

"He was," Tadashi agreed, raising a teasing eyebrow at her that relaxed her at last. It had always been her father's tacit response to her lighthearted vernacular, and seeing him do it now assured her that he was going to be all right. "Once I left home at fifteen, all ties between us were irrevocably broken. It was a hard life to live on my own like that, but no less so than living with him had ever been. I didn't want our children stigmatized as I had been; so Junko's suggestion to move here to the island was very welcome."

"But Dad, if the name Sensei was such a source of controversy, why not go ahead and take on the name Shimizu?" Myeko asked, puzzled.

Junko smiled. "That's my doing, Myeko, not your father's. Being raised outside Japan, in a much more Americanized society, I was something of a wild child. My parents often despaired of me. I was never the kind who got into trouble with the law, but I often walked a fine line. I tried everything…smoking, drinking, whatever. Then your father joined our family, and he was the polar opposite of everything I was. Quiet, respectful, unafraid to work hard. At first I thought he seemed much too alien for me, but gradually something about him won me over. He taught me the value of silence, respect, all the things I had been scorning. And when I realized I was in love with him and wanted to be his wife, and learned his surname at last, I told him he should never change it: he had been my personal _sensei_, and I wanted him to keep the name to remind me of the changes he made in my life." And as Myeko watched, wide-eyed, Junko got to her feet, settled on the arm of Tadashi's chair and slid a protective arm around his shoulders, then bent her head and gently kissed him.

Myeko felt her face turn warm and had to break the tension. "Hey, you guys're giving me the warm fuzzies, and they're tickling my gut," she mock-complained.

Junko and Tadashi eyed her with playfully dirty looks; she grinned, and they both laughed. "We can always count on you to liven things up," Tadashi observed, reaching out to squeeze her hand and throwing aside the blanket.

"And by the way," Junko broke in, "what's this you told me earlier about having met someone? I think you'd better fill us in."

"She did?" Tadashi asked. "How did that happen?"

"It seems she went to Leslie and asked for a fantasy," Junko said, shaking her head and smiling. "I'm not sure whether that means you were desperate or just trying to play it safe."

Myeko groaned. "Oh, Mom," she grumbled, evoking chuckles from her parents again. "Well, that's okay. His name's Nicholas Okada—he's a veterinarian from Arizona. You remember that old farmhouse on the Ring Road that I always used to think was haunted? Turns out it belonged to his late Great-Aunt Edie, and he's planning to move here to the island, set up a practice here and take up residence in the house. Leslie introduced me to him this morning, and we really hit it off. Something just feels _right_ about him, you know? We're having dinner tonight, and he's already looking forward to meeting Alexander and Noelle."

"Good heavens, he's not scared off by the children?" Junko teased. "That all by itself is a good sign as far as I'm concerned. I hope one of these days we'll get to meet him as well."

"You could get a dog or a cat," Myeko bantered, "so you'd have an excuse to take it to the vet, and you could meet him that way." She smirked when her parents rolled their eyes, and they all laughed.

‡ ‡ ‡

Nick came in the borrowed jeep to pick up Myeko at her cottage, and they went to the hotel to eat. Kazuo Miyamoto came out when he recognized Myeko and led the couple to a relatively secluded table in a partially enclosed booth; there, he lit candles and handed them menus. "Katsumi's here brewing tea this evening," he told them, "so if you prefer that, then do let me know. She may come out to say hello, Myeko. Enjoy your meal." He gave them a slight bow and retreated.

"You know him?" asked Nick.

Myeko nodded. "His wife is part of our circle of friends—Leslie and me and a bunch of us other girls. They have two little girls. So what looks good here?"

They perused the menus, made their choices, and chatted a bit with Katsumi when she came out to pour tea for them. Then Nick regarded Myeko thoughtfully. "I realize this is going to seem like too much too soon," he said, "but I got the idea this afternoon and thought it was worth throwing out there. What would you say if I went back with you to Honolulu tomorrow to pick up your kids? Do you think I could break the ice with them by talking about my practice and all the animals I've treated? Or will seeing their mom holding hands with some total stranger scar them for life and ruin my chances with you forever?"

Myeko's mouth dropped open, and he grinned, which made her burst into delighted laughter. "Let's put it this way," she said. "My kids are used to my sense of humor, and what you just said proves that your sense of humor is just the same as mine. I think they'll probably be just fine around you."

"Well, that's good to hear," Nick said cheerfully. "My mother's been pestering me for years to find some nice woman and settle down and give her a brace of rug rats to spoil rotten. She's lucky I really like kids. What time's the plane leave tomorrow?"

"Early—around eight-thirty, if I remember all Leslie's stories correctly," Myeko said. "Remind me to tell you how we used to bug her in school to give us the lowdown on all the fantasies every Monday morning. We always thought she had a heck of a life, being Mr. Roarke's ward and all that. But sometimes we felt sorry for her too, because I don't think she's had a weekend to herself in all the years she's lived on this island." She grinned.

"I'm going to have to thank her for picking my letter out of all the ones she must have gotten that had the same request," Nick remarked. "I feel like I've won the lottery, being here with you."

"Me too," Myeko said, and as if stricken with the same thought simultaneously, they joined hands across the table and smiled at each other in the flickering candlelight.


	9. Chapter 9

§ § § -- July 31, 2000

Jeff Lippert, arriving at the plane dock with his new lady friend Sharon Kilpatrick, looked troubled, despite his clear happiness at having found someone special. "Mr. Roarke, I have to apologize for Paul's behavior," he said.

"No, you don't, Mr. Lippert," Roarke contradicted. "Mr. Chen's actions were in no way your fault. You made it clear from the outset that you were opposed to his fantasy, and I do not hold you responsible for anything he did."

"You see, Jeff," Sharon Kilpatrick said, "I told you so. Now will you stop worrying about Paul and for once, let him take the consequences he's earned?"

Lippert sighed and finally smiled a little. "It won't be easy. Paul and I have been friends for years, and it was second nature to me to pull him out of trouble before he got in too deep. This time I wasn't there to be his safety net, and look what happened." He glanced at his companion. "But Sharon's right. I guess this time I'll have to let Paul take the fall for what he did, and maybe he'll finally learn something."

"Indeed so," Roarke agreed. "And I see your own fantasy has been fulfilled as well."

Lippert nodded, lighting up. "That it has," he said, "and it's thanks to Leslie here. Your daughter's a pretty darn good matchmaker, Mr. Roarke." He shook hands with a slightly bemused Roarke, then with Leslie, and everyone traded goodbyes before Lippert and Sharon headed for the dock.

"You never explained, Father," said Leslie. "You said you had reasons for granting Paul Chen's fantasy. What could they possibly have been?"

"Mr. Lippert hit on it, obliquely, just a moment ago," Roarke said. "While I had hoped that Mr. Chen would rethink his narrow-minded stance on the subject, I also had hopes that somehow it would bring at least some acceptance, if not peace, to the Sensei family. About two years before you came to the island, Leslie, I obtained a copy of Hideo Sensei's obituary and passed it along to Tadashi Sensei, for he had the right to know of his father's passing. But I always suspected he never truly faced his own difficulties in dealing with Hideo Sensei and the man's wartime atrocities, not to mention the stigma brought about by the surname Hideo adopted. I can only hope there was as little damage done as possible over the course of the weekend." He sighed gently. "Perhaps, Leslie, it was as well that Mr. Lippert was on the list of men you meant to introduce to Myeko. Once you set him up with Ms. Kilpatrick, he became too involved with her to keep an eye on Mr. Chen as he had doubtless intended to do, and now Mr. Chen must necessarily face the consequences of his actions. Since he clearly never wavered from his fanatical mindset, this was quite likely the only way to make him realize how much pain he has caused."

Before Leslie could say anything, another car drew up in front of them and discharged Myeko and Nick Okada. "Where are you two off to?" Leslie asked.

"Nick's coming with me to pick up the kids in Honolulu and meet them for the first time," Myeko said. "You know, Leslie, I think you really pulled this off. You did such a great job—you ought to give her some credit, Mr. Roarke. Somehow she found the perfect guy for me." Roarke got that bemused look about him again while Myeko hugged Leslie. "Thanks so much. I know I kind of dragooned you into doing it, but I'll be grateful for the rest of my life that you let me do it."

Leslie grinned. "What're friends for? By the way, how's your dad?"

"We had a long talk yesterday afternoon," Myeko said, "and I think we're all gonna pull through this with flying colors. I got the impression that he was afraid Taro and Tomi and Sayuri and I'd pass judgment on him or something, if he told us about our grandfather. What Hideo Sensei did wasn't Dad's fault, and when I made that clear to him, he told me the whole story." She grinned suddenly at Roarke. "Don't feel bad, Mr. Roarke. In the end, the only person who's going to be sorry he went through this is that creep."

They all laughed, and Nick shook hands with both Leslie and Roarke before putting his arm around Myeko's waist and leading her off to the plane dock. No sooner had they gone than three jeeps arrived one after the next, each letting out two couples—all of whose male halves consisted of the assorted men Myeko had met before hooking up with Nick. For several minutes Leslie was kept busy shaking hands with Adam Baines and Diane McCall, SSgt. Rick Larsen and Sgt. Kate Toomey, Mike Doyle and Anne Wayland, Dan Cole and his reconciled ex-wife Cindy, Tony DuLongpré and Daria Wilson—and Philip Holliday and Eileen Sheridan, both of whom looked to be in seventh heaven. Leslie watched them all troop up the dock, severely depleting the native girls' stock of leis, while Roarke stared on with astonishment the entire time.

"Amazing," he finally uttered.

"Yeah, isn't it grand?" Leslie agreed cheerfully. "Everybody fell in love…and you didn't have to lift a finger to help, just like you said." She smirked at him; he rolled his eyes, and her smug smile became delighted laughter.  
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**A/N:** _Seems like it took forever to get this one wrapped up! All the feedback is deeply appreciated, and my thanks go out again to jtbwriter, Harry2 and BishopT. Also, welcome and special thanks to PDXWiz for the terrific reviews! Happy Thanksgiving, all!_


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